Shadow and Scythe
by SneakyDorcas
Summary: While this story is listed under Normal Stories, it is actually a crossover between Soul Eater and a lesser-known manga by the name of Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro. A dark traveler comes before Maka and Soul. This traveler has a message for Spirit, and it's something the traveler will fight to tell him; an old memory he made himself forget long ago... Non-canon with either series, ha-ha!
1. Sharp Soul and the Silhouette

I'm only going to say this once. I do not own Soul Eater or Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro. Soul Eater is the property of Atsushi Okubo, the English translation specifically licensed to Yen Press. Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro is the property of Satoko Kiyuduki, the English translation specifically licensed to Yen Press. While I'm not sure if any company owns the rights to the intellectual property of either Soul Eater (including any and all subdivisions of above title) or Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro, I will credit them if I am made aware of ownership.

Also, for those interested in the chronological place of this story in either series' timeline, this story takes place between episodes 25 and 26 of Soul Eater, and in the present day immediately after the Mo chapter in Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro (I don't remember the chapter's exact number).

And now, this story is not in canon. Without spoiling anything, the main plot twist of _Shadow and Scythe_ does not make sense in the Kuro universe anymore.

I'm not apologizing.

**Part One**

**Sharp Soul and the Silhouette**

**The girls in white danced down the path, and the traveler in black followed, eyes burning the sunlight.**

The traveler was brooding. It came naturally to the grave lines of the wanderer's face and the gaunt shadow of the cloak it wore. From the traveler's tobacco-stenched hat and rough-cut spectacles to the rounded shoes that clasped over its feet, it seemed as though the traveler was carved into being for that very purpose. An old bat flitted to the left of the traveler's head.

"How're you mourning the morning, 'Kuro'?" The burned-blue bat asked.

The black traveler shot a glance at the flying nuisance. "It's the coffin. I think I'm getting too big for it," the shadow said. As it spoke, it gestured to a gigantic coffin that came from the top of its hat all the way down to the ankles of its rounded boots. The coffin was heavy-looking, held up by cloth chains and brass studs. Like the traveler holding it, the casket was foreboding, a massive slab of onyx night slashed out of some lightless pit. It was just the traveler's size.

"Kuro-_kun_!" "Shady-_neechan_!" The white-clad, cat-tailed girls came running, holding a spray of heather each. "Look what we found!"  
"Found it near a sharp man! He had white hands!"  
"White fingers with hand bags!"  
"On top he was a bee!"

The black traveler smiled slightly and said, "_Hush, _you two!" The girls in white looked up expectantly and stopped talking. The black traveler's face looked carved out of limestone, but the traveler's eyes twinkled and softened.

The traveler knelt down, leaned forward to speak. "Track him."

They walked again, the twinned radiances leading the shadow and its burden to a field of green and purple and yellow and hundreds of other colors.

Blending in with these was a boy of about sixteen summers. He wore a jacket that shimmered wheat yellow and glinted onyx black. His ashy hair looked sharp enough to cut steel and his pale red eyes, appropriately enough, blazed with focus. He wore white silk gloves.

"Who are you?" he demanded bluntly. His jagged teeth clicked gently as he spoke. _The only thing _blunt_ about him_, thought the traveler,_ is his speech_.

The shining girls piped up, as if on cue.  
"Nijuku!" the girl with black ears shouted delightedly.  
"Sanju!" the long-haired child yelled gleefully.

The cobalt-shaded bat flew lazily along the boy's ear. "I'm called Sen. Who are you?"

The boy jumped, but recovered well enough. He spoke simply. "Soul. And I meant HIM." Soul pointed lazily at the black traveler with his off-hand. As he gestured, his arm curved, hardened to a sharp point for a moment. The wanderer's mouth twitched.

The traveler turned to face Nijuku and Sanju and made a quick gesture of dismissal. Nijuku and Sanju started off into the meadow, touching all the flowers as they went. Sen followed.

The black traveler shrugged, shifting the coffin over the shadowy coat. The traveler's throat rumbled, coughing out phlegm and bits of dust.

The traveler thrummed a low curse and said, "Call me by my title. Kuro."

Soul snorted. "Well, Black," he translated, "Your parents didn't have a good sense of humor, but I do. Thing is, I gotta go. So, I'll take my ride and carve up the road for awhile, O.K.? O.K., 'bye." He sauntered to his motorcycle and was about to turn the key-

**"Wait!"**

Soul heard the tone, not the word. He heard hateful fury and cold fear, punctuated by a sharp note of hope and red tinges of hopelessness, all in a single syllable. He turned, replied with a syllable of his own.

"What?"

Kuro's black eyes crashed into Soul's soul with the overwhelming, resounding crash of an ancient tree split by a massive bolt of lightning and left to fall.

The traveler said, "You are a weapon, correct?"

Soul said yes.

The traveler said, "Then logically, you have a maestro… right?"

Soul twitched. "That's correct," he said, "but we call them meisters where I'm from."

The traveler looked skeptical, but said, "Then of course you live in the only place that trains 'meisters' to use weapons. This place is, in turn, located in Death City. That's where I'm headed. So, you are going to take me there." Kuro advanced a step and purred, "Aren't you?"

Soul flinched. _Just like my Maka_, he thought absently. He thought for a long time.

At last, he spoke. "It's cool. Just gather your kids and that stupid bat. Then… we ride!"

Kuro whispered something soft and dark.

Nijuku and Sanju came running. Their white dresses and hair were dyed every color of the rainbow, and a few more besides. Sen had turned from sapphire to a thousand shades of luxurious gemstone and precious mineral.

The twins immediately started babbling in the uncomprehending glee only childhood happiness can grant.  
"So much flowers! So many colors! So much to change Kuro-_chan_!" –Nijuku.  
"'Cause Kuro-_kun_ is all in black we want to make Kuro into Niji!" –Sanju.

Sen idly drifted to Kuro. He perched on the traveler's shoulder and whispered conspiratorially into the traveler's ear: "I heard what you said. The rest of me are still in the coffin, you know." The bat paused. When he spoke again, there was a note of concern in his voice. "The twins won't understand why we're going. _I_ don't understand why! Spirit won't..." He trailed off.

The black traveler's eyes were filled with fury. "Shut up," Kuro snarled. "That's _my_ business."


	2. The City of Death

**Part Two**

**The City of Death**

**The sharp man rode his steel steed, carrying two living lanterns and the cloaked shadow. **

_How extremely uncool_, Soul thought to himself. Arrayed across the back of his motorcycle was the coffin, on which sat the twins and the black traveler. The bat, Sen, flew slightly above the rear wheel.

He thought about what he'd say to Lord Death when he arrived with a depressed wanderer, two little girls, and an anthropomorphic bat. _I'm already on Death's bad side. This might get me banned from DWMA!_

Soul's thoughts were interrupted by Kuro leaning forward to say, "Is that the city?"

The voice was right in his ear. He flinched, then turned and yelled "Don't…_DO_ that!"

Nijuku and Sanju had spent the previous hour trying to do something to the black traveler. They'd said that they were trying to "give their color to make Kuro into Niji," but all they had done was put their hands on Kuro's sides and push a little.

It was a strange vision to see, going down a country path. Two little girls pushing on either side of a motionless, coffin-carrying child only a few years older than them, a navy-blue thing beating its wings above them, and leading them all was the familiar, embarrassed figure of Maka Albarn's loyal partner.

Soul was mortified. "I sure hope _she_ isn't here…," he said softly.

"Whom?" Kuro said innocently.

"My partner. She's a stuck-up, stubborn, pedantic, patronizing know-it-all who can only let me have fun when she's not there."

"Remind you of anyone, Kuro?" Sen inquired mockingly.

Kuro sighed, closed her eyes, and recited:

"I'm sitting on the final resting place of your mortal vessel, Sen-sei, and you know how clumsy I get sometimes." Kuro rotated from the torso to face the bat. "Remember what happened with the Liar Baron?"

If it was possible for a bat to shudder, Sen would have done so at that moment.

"Good. Now shut up, Sen." Kuro turned, facing forward once again. They went on in silence for several minutes.

A while later, Soul said, "Kuro?"

The traveler in black straightened. "Yes?"

"What do you plan to do in Death City?"

A lengthy pause. "I'm looking for Spirit Albarn."

The moment the name passed the traveler's lips, Soul slammed the brakes down. The twins tumbled from the back, laughing with joy. Soul roughly rolled off the bike and gaped at the traveler.

"You want to see the Death Scythe! What in shini-shini-koroshi are you _thinking_?! He's more likely to kill you than let you do whatever you're planning!"

The traveler turned and stared straight into his eyes. Soul suddenly thought back to Where the Red Fern Grows, remembering a hound that had just caught the scent of blood. "My business is **_my_** business." A pause. "Drive."

Soul shuddered, but obeyed. He mumbled under his breath. "…liked Maka better…"

Suddenly, there was a bump. Sen got clipped in his wing. An unearthly shriek (transcribed as KGHAAAAAIII, in case you wondered) burst from Kuro's coffin. Sen dropped like a stone. Before he touched the ground, though, Kuro's hand pistoned out and snatched him out of the air.

Kuro muttered, "Stop the bike."

"What?" Soul asked.

"STOP THE BIKE OR I'LL CARVE YOUR EYES OUT WITH YOUR OWN ARM!"

Soul stopped the bike.

Kuro hastily shrugged the coffin off and started muttering. No one but Kuro heard what was being said, and that was good. Sen wasn't badly hurt, and that was good, too. Kuro's voice increased its volume.

"Look away. You don't need to see this yet." Without waiting to see that order carried out, Kuro lifted the lid of the coffin. A faint shadow pulsed at Kuro's neck, almost like a chain or ring. Soul was still looking, but he saw... nothing. Only shadows were in that box, it seemed. Before he looked away, Soul saw one of the shadows shift, moving wings like a bat.

Kuro searched for this Sen's spot among the shadows. Then, quickly - but gently! Very, very gently - Kuro inserted Sen's limp body in with the rest of him. Kuro quickly closed the coffin's lid, readjusting the straps that held up the coffin. As the traveler stood up, it noticed a pair of eyes.

Rose red coloring, dark pupils. A lot of fury stuck in those eyes, and terrible focus was a familiar guest, and madness. There was a lot of determination, too, and - _what? Empathy? Pity, maybe?_ _What is it?_ Kuro laughed. _I thought I was the master of reading people. The Liar Baron even lied to himself, but even _his_ emotions had some pattern. Hell, he could feel-_

Kuro was thunderstruck. Love. _Yes, that was it. There was love in those eyes. Someone loves _him_, too._

All this analysis happened in the time it took for Soul to open his mouth and say, "What's going on?"

Kuro said nothing, and walked back to the bike. The external silence betrayed Kuro's thoughts. Kuro's mind was racing through a barrage of memories. The perfume seller's lifelong story ended after Kuro had left, but Kuro knew what had happened even so. The Liar Baron's tale had ended somewhat more tragically, but his end was the most wonderful he could have asked for. All of those had such beauty, but almost all of Kuro's stories (the witch, the professor... Mo...) held some facet of horror in its talons. Half of Kuro's life was chopped into tiny fragments of other lives. _Mo_, Kuro thought regretfully. _Your innocence cost me... cost us all so much_.

Out of nowhere, one memory loomed over all the rest. Kuro's eyes lost the tired glaze they'd held for so long, dripping into a shimmer of misery. Kuro's eyes moistened, and began bleeding tears. It was that moment that she cracked the most miserable smile Soul had ever seen and said:

"...dad..."

* * *

They rode in silence. Kuro gazed at the walls as they passed. The concrete walls were covered in pastel spray-paint and bits of chalk. Some remaining pieces of graffiti proclaimed "DEATH SCYTHE? MORE LIKE METH SCYTHE" and "BLACK*STAR WUZ HERE!" Some of the buildings they passed were hospitals, and they were invariably next to a forge or two. _There's something important in there_, Kuro noted, _but I'm not sure what_.

After a few minutes, Soul called out:

"Well, here we are. The Death Weapon Meister Academy."

The Academy, as Soul called it, was a huge building. The sun was setting over a symmetrical castle of towers and spires, all inset with skulls. The towers all tapered into spikes, and giant candles burned in the eye sockets, dripping wax around the edges.

They all got off. Kuro gazed at it, and mused, "I expected something solemn, not grand."

"Kuro-_chan_ is disappointed?" asked Nijuku.

"We'll show you mice!" exclaimed Sanju.

And with that, the two shining girls shrank to the size of rodents, and shed the hair from their tails.

Kuro replied, "No, Nijuku. I'm just surprised. And stop being mice, will you?" Kuro turned around, saw Soul gaping at the two gerbil-sized children, and laughed. "I see you've noticed Nijuku and Sanju for the first time. I think they're another kind of weapon, but…." Kuro shrugged.

A voice from above shouted, "New weapons, huh? Good. We need reinforcements right now." Kuro looked up to find the voice. It came from a thin, bloom-faced girl, about sixteen years old. She looked like her worst enemy had just used her favorite book to burn down her house on Friday the 13th. In other words, very serious.

Kuro analyzed her. Her bright green eyes were quick, and missed little. Her flaxen hair was cropped short, except for a pair of braids, hanging down over her ears. She held herself formally and stood with an air of dignity. She followed her form through by wearing the traditional uniform for scythemasters: a striped tie tucked into a trailing black suit coat, a plaid skirt covering her legs down to the knees. She rounded out the uniform with a pair of black-and-white hiking boots and a yellow vest that sheathed a white suit shirt. All in all, the outfit was... intriguing...

She had on the same white gloves as Soul, like a staff-fighter's braces. The thought came quickly: _This girl knows the sharp one_. Kuro's eyes narrowed.

The girl raised one hand and gestured to Kuro and the twins. "So, Soul, who are your new friends?"


	3. The Seer of Souls

A note to people who haven't read Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro: Nijuku and Sanju are the Japanese words for "twenty-nine" and "thirty", respectively. They were raised in a laboratory, and have no social graces to speak of. In Shoulder-a-Coffin, they continually speak in broken phrases like "Look good" or "Want help me?" and stuff like that. I kept their use of Japanese in whenever I could.

Have fun! And no, I'm not apologizing.

**Part Three**

**The Seer of Souls**

**The cloaked shadow walked off, leaving the girls with a new friend.**

Soul called out, yelling "What are you doing?!" The traveler replied, "Riding a unicycle, can't you tell?"

Soul turned around, confused. He started to tell the girl what was going on, but caught her glance said _silence, fool_.

The girl crouched down slowly. She stretched her legs to the sides, bouncing gently, and made her way slowly back to a steady stand. A moment later, the girl leaped down the stairway, kicking off every few stairs, landing with a soft _skik_ on her right palm. She held herself there for a moment. In a blurred motion, the girl twisted her body into a sitting position, resting on the concrete steps. She waited, pointedly ignoring the twins.

After a few moments, Nijuku walked over to her, followed soon after by Sanju. They waited a moment. Nijuku asked, "What's your name? I'm Nijuku."

Sanju piped in. "And I'm Sanju-_chan_! What's your name, Big-suit?"

The girl muttered to herself. "...twenty-nine...thirty? Interesting..." All of a sudden, she noticed the twins staring at her, still happily oblivious. She flashed them a dippy grin and told them "My name is Maka. That means 'deep red'. It's nice to meet you. I think you've met Soul already," she said, gesturing to the hapless young man. "He's my partner," she added.

The twins immediately began babbling at her and each other.

Nijuku: "White gloves like sharp man! Long coat looks heavy. Can I wear?"

Sanju: "Nijuku needs a nap! Kuro going somewhere. Wonder where?"

Nijuku: "Sharp man's partner?"

Sanju: "Sharp man's partner!

Nijuku and Sanju (imitating Soul): "Oh! Stuck-up, stubborn, pedantic, patronizing know-it-all who only lets me have fun when she's not there!" (laughter)

Maka (thoroughly confused at this point) tried to figure out the conversation between the two. There was something different about the last thing they said, though... Something clicked. "Soul!"

Soul ran.

After about a minute of relentlessly beating Soul, Maka climbed off of Soul's neck and turned her attention back to Nijuku and Sanju. "You said your names were Nijuku and Sanju, right?"

"No, my name's Nijuku!"

"And mine's Sanju!"

Maka smiled. "Can you do me a favor? Would you please stand right there for a while?"

The twins looked at each other for a moment. They babbled a bit more. "Stand? Stand?"

"Kuro left. What to do?"

"Maka is nice."

"Do it?"

"Yes."

The pair stood still in their tracks. "Go ahead!"

Maka sat down and closed her eyes. She focused on nothing, allowed her mind to wander. Her heart slowed, her breathing deepened and grew hot. She bowed her head. Suddenly, she snapped her head up. She opened her eyes, then opened her eyes again.

The souls of every living thing she could see faded into view. She looked to a tree in the distance. It looked green, weary in the heat. She looked at Soul's soul, taking in its customary striped red. He was woozy from the stomach punch, it seemed.

Prepared now, she looked at the twins. She wasn't prepared.

Sanju's soul pulsed a light pink heartbeat, sliced from time to time with rainbow flashes of emotion. A freakish haze hung around her right shoulder blade, a moss-green mist in the shape of a wing. Another haze trailed out the bottom of her skirt, hanging over... Maka blinked, closed her eyes twice. Maka thought she would've long ago stopped being surprised by strange stuff like this, but_ this _was amazing._ I'm imagining this. This is a dream. Now... WAKE UP!_

Maka's eyes snapped open. There it was, winking her in the face with its furry, prehensile length. _Not a dream_.

Over Sanju's _**tail**_, there was another green mist. Strangely, the mist was in the shape of another, pointier tail.

Nijuku's soul blazed a steady, bluish off-white, marbled with matte black swirls like drops of ink in a glass of water. A red plume of smoke, like Sanju's, hung over her body. A white mist hung between the two, an illuminated chain encircling their ribs. The word _inseparable_ popped into Maka's head.

Nijuku also had a tail. _Why is that so impossible to accept? I've killed monsters more evil than them! What's so wrong about those two?!_

The only thing that threw Maka was, they had no malice in them, no anger at all. They were so innocent it hurt.

Maka closed her eyes, then closed her eyes.

Soul finally got up. "Should we get the other one, Maka? He said he was looking for Death Scythe."

Maka turned to his voice, opened her eyes. "What?" she growled. "What does he want with my womanizing father? Did he tell you anything else?"

"No, I didn't," Kuro purred out of a nearby alley. The traveler paused as it stepped out of the shadows, stepping very deliberately on the lightest stones. "That was personal business, Soul. I thought you knew that. And no, I'm not going to kill the man." One last ray of sunlight burst across the traveler's face, giving Kuro a thoughtful look. "I... have something for Spirit Albarn, a message of sorts."

The sun finally sank below the horizon. Maka looked around, finally encased in darkness. She looked back to the traveler, saying, "Any message for that ladykiller can be given through me."

After all, I'm his daughter."


	4. Standoff with the Dark Traveler

A note: Kuro (in Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro) was cursed by a witch to 'fade to black'. The witch in Shoulder-a-Coffin was a bit different from the witches in Soul Eater, essentially a living shadow. Since the curse forces Kuro to slowly become a witch, and the witch is a living shadow, I thought it would be a nice touch to give Kuro black blood, similar to Crona's.

I'm not apologizing.

**Part Four**

**Standoff with the Dark Traveler**

**An air of disbelief surrounded the child of the night. **

Kuro stared at Maka. "What did you just say?" Kuro snarled.

Maka recoiled from the hostility radiating off of the black-cloaked traveler. "What? I am! Death Scythe is my dad!"

Kuro said nothing for some time, but hunched over slowly, like some kind of puppet. Soon enough, Soul muttered something to Maka. "Be careful. This guy's dangerous." He said it very quietly, but Kuro grinned.

Kuro looked over at the twins. The grin faded, and Kuro tossed them three gold coins. "Go buy something for yourselves. Don't come back until Sen or I tell you to, understand?"

The twins, oblivious to the tension in the air, cheerily yelled, "Okay!" and set off down the road.

Kuro's shadowed form shook. It seemed to be talking, but no one could hear the words.

Soul took a step forward, started glowing. His form gradually cloaked itself in a brilliant tapestry of light, blinding against the hazy night.

Soul leaped into the air, suffused with light. The brilliant silhouette Soul had become melted, flowing into a pole and a blade. The light shattered, and where Soul had jumped, a striped red scythe (with an eye insignia just behind the blade) fell. Before he hit the ground, his partner leaped sideways, gripping the scythe at the base of the blade. As she grasped it, her hand blurred into motion, whipping the weapon around in a short arc that left the flat of the blade resting gently against her other arm. As she landed, the girl crouched down, anticipating some sort of impact against the resilient steel of the scythe's handle. When none did, she looked up to see the inky shadow that was the traveler standing just before her.

"Don't insult me, _scythemaster_," Kuro snarled, spitting out the last word like something rotten. As the traveler said this, it twisted its neck to the side, unleashing an alarmingly loud series of cracks before righting itself. "Death Scythe _can't_ be your father. Now put Soul back down and think for a minute."

Maka stayed crouched, but she was frightened. The only other person who would say something like that was Sid, and he was no pushover, especially not on a night like this.

The traveler's snarl crumbled, replaced by a light grin. "I won't hurt you, I swear." Suddenly, the traveler said, in a rough, simple rasp, "That's not the kind of man I am."

Maka gasped, eyes drawn wide in shock at hearing Sid's voice from this... _freak_. "S-Sid?" she stammered.

Kuro twitched, shuffling at the coffin on its back. "The teacher? You know him?"

Maka tightened her grip on her scythe. _What should I say...?_ "He died."

The traveler stopped twitching. Kuro stood absolutely still, tilted its hat until Maka could only see a blur of black. A moment later, Maka heard a low, choked voice whispering a prayer.

"Lay your head where my heart used to be... hold the rest above me... Be blessed, for your life is done, and as we all fade away, we melt into one."

"Don't say goodbye, my friend... all of us will meet an end. Any day now this one will die... Hear the path I tread, and soon my friend, we'll meet again."

The traveler turned its head back up to the scythe-wielding meister.

The meister looked embarrassed. "Um... he's a zombie. You can still talk to him, if you want."

Kuro just stared. "You're kidding. I just wasted a death prayer on a walking corpse." The traveler's palm smashed into its head. "Idiot!"

Maka tensed, leveling the Soul scythe in a forceful slash. The scythe sang through the air, cleaving currents of wind. Kuro, face caught in an expression of surprise, could only raise an arm against the blow. Soul gleamed, smiling inwardly. _No problem_. The slash sliced through the fabric of the traveler's coat.

The scythe smashed into the traveler's arm, and stopped. The traveler's arm had a very shallow cut in it, just enough of a wound for blood to drip out of. A single drop of black liquid traveled along Soul's edge, thickening and swelling about halfway along. It fell to the cobblestones, plopping heavily onto the ground alongside a tear.

Maka's eyes widened. She skipped backwards, out of the traveler's range. The eye insignia behind the scythe's blade suddenly swiveled around and glared at Maka. Soul's voice rumbled into her brain. _"What's wrong, Maka?"_

Maka replied, _"It's like I'm attacking Crona. He's got black blood."_ All of a sudden, that fact hit home, and Maka gasped. _"How does he have black blood?! I thought only Crona had any!"_

Kuro shrugged the coffin into one hand and threw it at the polearm in Maka's hands. As the coffin flew, Kuro sprinted alongside it, unwinding tangles of cloth with impossible speed. A split second later, a gigantic swarm of bats exploded out of the coffin and flew for the lampposts, extinguishing them and plunging the street below into pitch blackness.

Kuro vanished.

Maka, who had been watching the traveler the whole time, suddenly had a feeling she was not going to win this battle.


	5. The Gentle Shadow Master

**Part Five**

**The Gentle Shadow Master**

**The scythemaster and her stalwart weapon were blinded by shadow and night.**

Until the traveler vanished, Maka was pretty sure she could win. Maybe she could pull off some incredible stunt and take the freak's head, but no.

She was flung her head from one side to the other, trying to catch some glimpse of the shade-cloaked wanderer. Nothing. She perked up her ears, trying to hear a scratch of cloth on stone or a footstep. Nothing.

A lifeless voice reverberated on the walls. _What made you try to kill me?_

Maka swung at the voice with her gloved hand. Her fist slammed into a solid mass, like stone. She cringed at the pain shooting up her arm, but sliced at the mass with Soul's bladed edge. Before her swing cleared two feet, a massive impact rattled Soul out of her hands. He clattered to the ground, lying flat on his side.

Maka dived for Soul. She gripped the bottom of the handle, flung him into the air and caught him, all the time scanning for the shadow-fighter.

_You can't find me, you know. I am a shadow_, the voice purred in her ear.

Soul laughed, caught off guard by this stupid nothing. In between chuckles, he wheezed, "You sa-ha-hound li-hike Black*Star! Hah-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

Another voice spoke. "Black*Star? Who's that?" it questioned, amused.

Soul shimmered, glinting an inner light. "Oh... heh-heh... he's a meister at our school. He's the most egotistical fool I've-"

"Soul! You do know we're in the middle of a fight, don't you?!" Maka yelled.

Soul gave a weapon's equivalent of a wince. "Right, Maka. Witch Hunter?"

The traveler heard the scythe say, 'Maka.' _Impossible_, Kuro thought. _It couldn't be_.

Maka said, "_Hai_."

With that, Maka stood very still. Her heartbeat slowed, matching the pulse of the scythe in her hand.

A moment later, a familiar twinge traced an icy path down her spine. Without meaning to, she began growling. At that exact moment, Soul matched the growl with one of his own. Joined in pitch and volume, their growl rose to a hollow roar, then an ear-splitting shriek.

At the peak of the noise, a sky-blue crescent erupted from the scythe's handle, engulfing the blackened red blade in a glowing wedge of cerulean light.

The crescent illuminated the street, revealing the dark outline of the traveler's cloak. If Maka or Soul were looking, they would have caught a brief look of astonishment passing the traveler's face.

Maka turned her head, just missing it. Her face displayed a ferocious anger, consuming her thoughts with an overwhelming sense of **POWER**. She lunged forward, methodically drawing the scythe farther behind her.

"Fabled weapon of Lore!" she roared triumphantly.

"WITCH HUNTER!"

Just as her arm tensed to swing him, a vicious **_crack_** sounded at Soul's blade.

He howled with pain, and quickly blinked back into human form. Maka plowed into the ground head first, scraping three narrow gashes into her face. Soul crashed to the ground, clutching his arm and screaming in agony. Maka jumped to her feet, only to be greeted by a boxer's punch to the stomach. She stood for a moment, clutching her stomach and trying to breathe, trying her best to stay up. She slowly crumpled, and fell forward onto the ground.

Suddenly, Kuro was right in front of her, squatting with arms crossed. "What made you two think I was a threat?" the traveler asked.

Maka listened through a haze of red pain. Something tugged at the back of her mind. Her air-starved lungs tried to puff up something. "Wha... You said... about us... what d'you mean?" she wheezed.

"You started this. You took the first swing." It wasn't an accusation, just a statement. "What were you thinking?"

Maka looked up at the bubble of night speaking to her, replied, "I thought... I thought you were trying to hurt my father."

The traveler looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. Maka's eyes were unfocusing and refocusing, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Just as her mind slipped into nothingness, she heard a gentle whisper of a voice. It said, _I understand. _


	6. The One and Only Death Scythe

Just a short one.

**Part Six**

**The One and Only Death Scythe**

The red-haired man heard an animalistic scream.

He was finely dressed, a cross-shaped black tie splitting his white shirt into quarters, bordered by a sharp gray Seville Row jacket. His legs were draped in black-on-gray pinstriped suit pants.

He walked slowly along the outer wall of Death City, taking in the night air. He was determined to come home to his daughter, to see how she was doing at the Academy. He loved her so much, and he'd made a promise to her.

The man heard a scream, starting low and rising to a bat's screech. He saw a blue arch of light burst upwards, cresting over the building a few streets down. He quickened his pace, nearly running. He heard a familiar voice invoking the Witch Hunter. The man gasped. _Maka!_

Suddenly, a resounding _crack_ rang in the air, and a tremendous bellow of pain cracked the serenity of the night. The blue light vanished as quickly as it appeared. The man sprinted around the last corner, and stopped short.

Hanging before his eyes was a veil of shadow. He listened carefully, listening for something. A rustling sound brushed at him, drifting down to him from on high.

The man leaped at the sound, slashing with his arms. The swarm of now-frightened bats flapped around him, battering his head and shrieking in his ears.

He planted his feet on a nearby wall, jumped. He landed heavily, touching down in a hunched crouch. He was surrounded by shadows.

"MAKA!" he shouted.

A terrifying voice whispered in his ear. _What is she to you? _

The man slashed at the voice, hitting air.

_So hostile_, the voice noted. _Don't be. I'm not trying to harm you, and Maka's fine, though unconscious. I have a bit of a message for you._

The man quickly asked, "Who are _you_? And why are you telling me this?"

The voice spoke down through the mists of ages. _You really don't know? Your people have dreamed of me for ages without measure, and of my departures, my returns, and of what comes between them. I am Night_.

_One of my blessed ones is coming to your town. She calls herself Kuro, one of my sacred names for one of my sacred servants. You will know her by the great coffin she carries. I don't know what business that man has with her, but she wishes to see a very special person, for a very special reason. She wishes to meet Spirit Albarn_.

The man said nothing, but twitched. Gray blades burst from his arms and back, splitting the air behind him.

_Ahhh_, the voice rumbled. _Death Scythe, correct?_

"Yeah, that's me. Now tell me, what's your stake in this?"

The voice sounded almost maternal for a moment. _I don't want to lose her_.

Death Scythe thought of his daughter, and nodded. "I think I know what you mean."

_Yesssssss... The girl_._ She's quite the warrior, she is. She's just down the street, lying next to the screaming boy._

Death Scythe smiled, then ran down the street, calling Maka's name.

Kuro materialized, slumping next to the coffin.

_I hope he bought it_, she thought.


	7. Mo, the bringer of so much

**Part Seven**

**Mo, the bringer of so much**

_The dawn was coming. The shaded wanderer was lying on the coffin, balanced on a rock, staring unblinkingly up at the fading stars_.

She imagined that she was solely responsible for the stars dying off._ A flick of my wrist and some distant galaxy is flung to the edge of everything, a bend of a finger and a star explodes_. A brief flicker, a grimace passed the traveler's eye. _When did I get so morbid_? _Oh. Yeah_.

The traveler raised one hand, pointed at the north star, muttered something like "Go away." Nothing happened.

"Ave Nacht!" the traveler exclaimed happily. A swallow pecking at seeds a few feet away took flight.

Grinningly, the traveler pointed at the fleeing bird, muttered something else.

The bird was blasted backward, fumbling to correct its flight. The grin flew away faster than a hummingbird's wing. The traveler's arm flopped back down on the coffin.

"Damn. I thought I was free..." The traveler trailed off. _Free from what? _asked the irritating Sen in her mind_. The curse? The one you took on yourself_? No, Kuro thought. _Your powers, then_? No. _Then what_?! the old drunk asked again.

You know how this will go, Mo-shade, Kuro stated mentally. We've been facing off like this for... is it six years now? Seven? Eight? Why don't you show yourself, start with honesty for once.

Kuro arrived in a shaded grove of trees, her mother's peach orchard. A ring of huge, wonderful trees encircled her, all heavy with ripened fruit. A fantastic smell hung over them, heavenly and sweet. One of them held a knob of wood, a heavy black dome of flat black nothingness. The knob started grinding and cracking, with low snaps sounding every second.

Something formed from the shifting knob, a tiny wooden arm that flexed and bent, gripping onto the bark of the tree. It pushed, lifting itself out. The arm grew a carved metal torso, another wooden arm. The other arm slashed at the air wildly before grabbing mightily onto the tiny knobs of peach wood. The thing popped out of the tree, landing with a horrible crash on two stubby legs. It looked over at Kuro.

It was like a caricatured mockery of Mo's form, a deathly-thin mask pulsing atop a childish puppet. One eye was stretched madly, swirling colors in a crazed defiance of humanity and possibility. The other was engulfed in the same black fluid that bled down the side of the scarecrow-esque face. The mouth was disturbingly normal, a straight, thick pair of faded-pink lips parting to show off-white, square teeth.

Kuro was not impressed. You've shown me that form twenty-five times before.

_Yet it still frightens you_ _most of all_.

True. In case you try some cryptic fact, I know you're a part of me, or at least that I'm a part of you, so don't even start with that.

_You mouth the words, but I hear no truth in them_.

You can read lips.

The puppet-thing laughed, a lunatic shriek that rattled in Kuro's ears.

_Well-put, little one. You have some brains, at least._

No more than you.

_Literal-minded as always, Lefty_.

Hmmmmm... you've finally succeeded in confusing me. Better late than never, of course.

_We are one, yet twinned at the same time_.

I know that already.

_Only as a fact! I'll make you LEARN IT_.

Shut up, Mo-fragment. You've lived long enough, I think, as just a piece of _her_. Why not join me, be at peace again?

The puppet thing paused. _You're trusting today. Why?_

It was Kuro's turn to pause.

Something personal has come up.

_**Lies**__! I __**know**__ of no such event!_

It came from before YOU.

The shard of Mo stopped for a moment. _Ah. That's why. Heh heh heh. I like it! Fine, then, I'll join you._

Good. I've been waiting for this for some time.

A smile broke on the puppet-thing's face. It slowly melted into a girl who looked to be six. Her hair slipped down in sea-green cascades, flowing to cerulean streams of damp tresses.

As Kuro watched, the child lengthened, stretching smoothly into a graceful girl of fifteen years, then eighteen. Her eyes glittered a fertile green, softening in blended joy and sorrow. The girl's hands were delicate, tapered like blunt pencils. Her child's smock flowed into a cloudy violet dress, laced with undergrowth-green stitches that blended with the color of the peach orchard.

_**Oh. I think I understand.**_ The final piece of Mo's soul looked upwards, gazing at something Kuro couldn't see. Tears started flowing from the childish eyes of a long-dead girl. _I'm dying, aren't I?_ Kuro nodded numbly.

_I don't see the path's end, but I see... Oh. I see a woman calling something. It's a name. Spirit Albarn. I- _a gasp. _It's my sisters, holding their kittens-! _The voice grew faint, choked with tears of happiness. _And Mama, with her tablecloth apron, and Aoi with her blue blanket, and Daddy... _The girl turned transparent. _And there's a man with this happy look on his face, and he's saying something to me. Wait a second! He says I... I... _The girl broke down completely, weeping uncontrollably. _He says I'm his angel now. He says he knows me, and he knows what I did, but it doesn't matter_.The see-through girl turned to Kuro, and blinked, eyes stretched like dinner plates. _Kuro! He looks just like you! _She turned back. _And... And... He's so beautiful... So happy... __**Wait for me! I'm coming! **_

The girl, just a shimmer in the air, started running forward. As she did, her form dissolved. Her fingers melted, drifting gently apart like snow on a breeze. Her arms followed, slowly dripping away to an unseen paradise. Her legs shaved away in strips, followed by a few other pieces of her at a time. All that was left was her face, contorted in reckless joy. Her mouth slipped away, and her cheeks followed suit. All that was left was her beautiful, sea-shaded eyes. Caught without needless decoration, Mo's eyes were perfectly joyous, totally serene. Kuro prayed,

'Lay your head where my heart used to be...'

The eyes turned back to Kuro. They twinkled once, twice. The eyes gradually drifted out of thought and time, falling away like scattered stardust on a clear night.


	8. The Scarlet Nightmare

A note: Crona's gender is not definite in this story, but I'll use "he" and "his" to make it easier to understand. In addition, Crona is slightly out of character. He's more protective of Maka, (who he thinks of as his only friend) than he was in the anime, which this story is based on.

**Part Eight**

**The Scarlet Nightmare  
**

**The red scythewielder was trapped in a lightless nightmare. **

Her red skirt slowly bleached itself black, even when she tried to burn the shadows off of it. She looked up, catching sight of Soul looking at her from far off. Even though he was at least sixty meters down an alley, she could see Soul's fiery red eyes, eclipsed by total shadow. She ran for him, thinking to brush the darkness out of his eyes, when a swarm of bats erupted out of nowhere, blinding her and screening her from Soul. When they finally cleared, Maka ran to Soul, who was covered in shadows. She finally reached him. He spun around, and suddenly she was looking at Asura, framed by bloody shadows, giggling madly.

Maka awoke soaked with sweat, heart pounding in her ears.

"Again..."

She looked around. She was in a hospital ward, the one Medusa headed before she died. Maka shuddered as she thought of that... monster. _She was heartless, a spy and a traitor_. Maka shook her head, trying to clear those cruel memories away. Medusa was dead now, sliced in half by Death Scythe.  
Maka felt a burst of anger at her father. _She was **mine**!_

Lying in the next bed over was Soul, lying still with a splint on his arm. His eyes were closed.

The door to the ward opened. A slim kid with purple hair shuffled inside, clutching a porcelain bowl of tomato soup. He looked up, then flinched as he noticed Maka was awake.

"Hi, Maka..." he mumbled.

"Crona!" Maka exclaimed happily. He flinched again.

"I brought you some soup..." Crona said. His slight, forgettable features showed Crona settling down, easing into life at the DWMA. His slim nose was picking up the delicious smells hanging in the air, from fresh bread to the warm tang of tomato soup. Crona really liked tomato soup.

Maka swung around in the bed. Crona flinched again.

"Thank you. I was just starting to get hungry, too." Maka stood up, stiff from the bed. She reached out to take the bowl from Crona's hands. Her gloves were off, and her hands brushed along Crona's as she took the bowl.

Feeling Maka's fingers on his hand, Crona jerked so violently that he dropped the bowl, shattering the ceramic and splashing the soup across the floor.

He looked down, afraid that he might see the soup on the floor near the broken bowl. It was there.

Crona immediately bolted for a towel, yelling apologies. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I-"

Maka knelt down, placed a single finger on Crona's lips. "Shhh. It's all right. It's not a problem, really. I'll get it myself."

As she took the towel from Crona's frozen fingers, Maka ignored the look of shock on the androgynous kid's face. _Crona's been through a lot in the last few weeks. He doesn't need any more trouble, he needs friends._

Crona was saying something. "How did you get sent to the hospital?"

Maka started soaking up the soup. It made a brilliant red stain on the subtle off-white pattern of the towel. "I got in a fight," she admitted sheepishly.

Crona looked as if Maka had proposed to him. "Really?! I thought you never started fights..."

Maka laughed as she folded the towel, sopping up the soup with the other side. "Yeah, I do. I'm just hard to beat."

Crona smiled nervously. "I'm not too easy to beat, either."

Maka looked at Crona, a strange expression on her face. She started sobbing, a grin breaking out of her mouth. She started sobbing harder, making a quick, soft "hee-hee-hee" noise.

Crona smiled wider.

Maka threw her head back and laughed uproariously, shouting gales of joy that echoed for miles. She howled and whooped for a full minute before she ran out of air. She dropped to the floor, reflexively twitching, still trying to laugh.

Crona was getting scared. He lifted Maka and put her back on her bed.

Maka took a deep, shuddering breath. She chuckled a bit, snickering to a stop. "Ha ha hah, ha ha... Hoo!" Maka wiped a tear from her eye. "Ah, Crona. That was great!"

Crona furrowed his eyebrows. "What was great?"

Maka chuckled some more. "Nothing, nothing. I just thought you... Never mind."

Crona stared for a moment, but said no more. "So, what happened to Soul and you?"

Maka's eyes narrowed. When she spoke, it was as if she was talking through a mouthful of knives. "A traveler looking for my father. He didn't say his name."

Crona said, "What did he look like?"

"He was dressed all in black from head to foot. He had a wide-brimmed hat, like something Black*Star would wear, and he had this huge coffin on his back he keeps a swarm of bats in. And, Crona?" A short pause. "He has black blood, just like you."

Crona looked up, terror slashed across his face. "Black...?" he whispered. He got up promptly.

And his back exploded in a shower of black liquid. Crona winced heavily, then arched his back, leaning into the eyes of the stream of blood trailing from his back. "Hello, Ragnarok..." he said with resignation. The stream of liquid took on a shape, that of a tiny fabric puppet with button eyes and white gloves.

The puppet was already talking in his constant, irritating whine of a voice, saying, "I heard what the cripple said. Lady Medusa's black blood, right? Let's go out and kill the failure! He's sure to be near the town! This is the perfect opportunity!"

Crona stalked out of the hospital ward, clutching at air. A moment later, his hand was filled with the handle of a shadowy weapon, a narrow sword wrapped in dirty gauze.

He nodded. "He'll pay for this. I swear it."


	9. Black Coffee

**Part Nine**

**Black Coffee**

**The cloaked traveler and the twins made their way slowly down the decrepit alley.**

Kuro was heavy-hearted. _She's gone_, she thought. _Mo is finally gone_.

The traveler kicked a bottle by her foot. The alley was a wide one, big enough to hold a house if you could build one on top of the clutter. Bottles and trash were strewn everywhere, rotting in piles on top of each other. Near the middle of the alley were the remnants of a chainlink fence, ripped down and rusted away to nothing. Tiny scraps of paper covered in mold crisscrossed the alleyway.

It looked like Kuro felt.

A clink from behind. Kuro turned to see Sanju land on a trash can. A bottle rolled into the wall. Kuro turned back to her target, a coffee shop about a block away from the alley. She took aim and released.

The shadow-clad traveler took three steps into the sunlit street, followed two seconds later by the shining duo. A car had just turned onto the street, going at a slow pace. Kuro had made a point of leaving the coffin outside the town, guarded by most of Sen. She made her way across the vast street, speeding up and slowing occasionally. Kuro finally made it to the sidewalk, and promptly entered the shop.

The patrons of the coffee shop looked up as the door opened. Standing in the doorframe was a teenaged traveler dressed all in black. Directly following her were a pair of retina burns. One of the men in the store happened to be Doctor Stein, who was getting his morning cup of coffee.

Kuro looked around for a moment before noticing the stares of the people around her. Kuro turned around, talked to the blinding glares for a moment. They walked off. Stein walked up to the wanderer, one hand open and straight, the other clenched in a fist. After a moment of speaking, they moved to a corner. One of the regulars made a disgusting joke about Stein's "interesting tastes", which Kuro pointedly ignored.

As they made their way through the rows of seats, Kuro and Doctor Stein had a silent conversation. Stein kept his hand firmly on the traveler's shoulder, transferring his thoughts directly into Kuro's mind. He was astonished to find the traveler's mind so mild, so organized. He was not aware of the traveler's constant, now-finished dialogue with the final piece of Mo.

The traveler, on the other hand, was terrified of the violent, cutting nature of the Doctor's mind. Kuro had never experienced a mind link, but the sensation was horribly familiar.

Put into words, the conversation went something like this.

Doctor Stein: "Hello. I'm here. Here I am."

Traveler: "I understand. I am here, as well."

DS: "So organized. Your mind is focused. Mind-lunk before?"

T: "No, this the first time I have ever been in a mind link."

DS: "Know Kuro? A traveler, a priest of night came here. There was a message for Spirit."

T: "Yes, I know Kuro quite well. What do you know about... him?"

DS: "Him? Not much. I heard Kuro was a priest of Night. I heard he'd come here soon carrying a big coffin."

T: "You know of the coffin, then? What of its contents?"

DS: "!?"

T: "Never mind. It isn't important."

DS: "Coffin important dangerous helpful rare needed?"

T: "No. I told you it wasn't important. This, however, is. Kuro will be coming tomorrow, at dusk. Send Spirit Albarn, and the **Scythemaster** Maka, to the fountain square. _(The word Scythemaster filled Stein's mind with horrible fury and hatred. He recoiled, almost lost his grip on the traveler's shoulder.)_ Now, Doctor. Go."

The traveler shrugged off Stein's questioning arm, and left the store.

Kuro sharply edged the corner, calling for the twins. She saw them at the far end of the block, talking to a slim purple-haired girl in a black robe, clasped at the end of the long sleeves with screwlike wrist cuffs. At the scrawny kid's neck, there was a stiff white collar, simply studded with elegant buttons. After a moment of staring, Kuro ran to the girls, clutching at her hat and pushing through the milling crowd.

"Nijuku! Sanju! Come back here!" Kuro called, a note of alarm ringing in the air. The crowd, sensing a conflict, immediately made a wide circle around them all.

The purple-haired child slowly rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving Kuro's face.

It was at this moment something very strange happened. Crona had never done it before, and neither had Kuro, but both of them were suddenly speaking their own language. A low hum hung over them both, filtering everything into a bass buzz.

_**Crona said something that sounded like a cat swimming in paint, followed by a greasy buzzing. Translated roughly to English, this meant something like "You're the dead-souled dog hunter that hurt my fist-friend."**_

_**Kuro spat back with rusty nails pounded by rain, ground down and dropped into a pan of oil. Translated, this meant "And you're the ink-veined child of a rust-souled sadist!"**_

_**Crona replied in a monotone, imitating a horse chewing a carrot. "You came to my only home."**_

(At this point in the exchange, Kuro and Crona were so focused on each other that neither of them noticed Nijuku or Sanju cowering in fear.)

**_Kuro growled a harsh dripping, like a dented gutter in a monsoon. "And your fist-friend tried to kill me as I gave a prayer to the dead."_**

The strange feeling stopped.

Crona shouted, "You're a liar!"

"And you're a witchblood!" Kuro spat. "Nijuku, remember that steel cloth I taught you? Do it." Kuro turned to Sanju, said, "Remember the thing Sen taught you? Now."

The twins both yelled "Okay!" and started glowing.

The purple-haired child screamed as its back arched, spraying blood over the pavement. Kuro stared in horror at the onyx-black liquid, slowly forming a tiny puppet from the stream of blood. The puppet stared at her hungrily, looking quickly between her and the the other girl.

Suddenly, it yelled, "Hey Crona! That chick looks kinda like you!"

Crona never took his crazed eyes off the black-cloaked traveler in front of him, but said "Ragnarok. Sword. NOW!"

The liquid puppet melted, flowing into a long, slender blade. Crona gripped at the air, left hand closing around a night-black sword hilt. A spiked ring acted as the guard, and a strip of white cloth wrapped around the base of the blade. He rose it up to his face, with one spike from the guard almost piercing his nose. His eyes lolled to one side, and he twitched, almost stabbing himself.

"You hurt my friend. I will kill you, I swear." The words hung in the air. The crowd around them drifted away, everyone in it getting a sudden urge to go elsewhere.

A mouth emerged from just above the sword's guard. It formed five words. "Kill this guy, you moron!"

Crona said nothing. He merely drew back his arm, lined it up with the traveler's glasses, and threw.


	10. Blood and Shadows

A note for readers of Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro: I didn't really change Kuro for this story. Most people wouldn't view Kuro as a fighter (and Kuro really isn't a fighter), but the one time Kuro did "fight" was against an old man called the Fibber Baron (The Liar Baron in this story). In that very short fight, Kuro threw a coffin (filled with bats, mind you) directly into the man's face. That demonstrates a LOT of strength, especially considering Kuro's size.

I'm not apologizing.

**Part Ten**

**Blood and Shadows**

**Kuro flicked her eyes between the boy and the twins shining on the pavement.**

She looked down at the twins. As she looked back up, Crona was dead ahead, his thin black sword in mid-throw. Kuro ducked out of the way and rolled low along the ground. Kuro's eyes flicked back to the twins. _Almost there_, Kuro thought.

Crona appeared behind her, plucking the sword out of the air and slashing violently. The blade emitted a high screech, loud enough to make itself vibrate in Crona's hand.

Kuro blinked.

The blade pierced Kuro's left shoulder, shearing through sinew and steely blood alike. A part of her mind apart from the pain was analyzing this. _What's happening? I should be untouched!_

The blade withdrew from Kuro's shoulder. Crona whirled away, slashing at Kuro's neck as he went. A second later, he advanced, slicing with the sword so swiftly the air sang as it passed.

Black liquid was pouring from Kuro's shoulder, but Kuro's blood was finally solidifying, making her joint a stiff ache. "What was that? How did you hurt me?!" she shouted in confusion.

Crona didn't hear her. He was absorbed in his own raging fear.

Kuro looked up to the twins. "NOW!" she screamed. Nijuku leaped to her left hand, Sanju to her right.

Nijuku was transformed into a piece of cloth, thin but heavy. Sanju shifted into a massive hammer, with a spike behind the hammerhead and a hard, leathery grip. They both shimmered joyously, smiling without movement.

_Forgive me, you two_, Kuro thought.

_For what?_ they chimed simultaneously.

"This might hurt," Kuro said. Her left hand blurred into motion, catching Crona's arm with Nijuku and wrapping around it in a heavy knot. With her other hand, Kuro took a mighty swing with Sanju, catching Crona in the right shoulder.

Crona quickly ripped at Nijuku's cloth, trying to extract his arm with his now-numb fingers. Nijuku held firm, laughing wildly. Crona backpedalled, sword arm still tangled in dense fabric. Ragnarok was yelling "Switch hands! Switch hands!"

Ragnarok disappeared from Crona's hand in a purple nimbus of energy.

Kuro stepped in, dropping Nijuku and tackling Crona before the insanely-grinning fool could restore the weapon. Nijuku turned back into a little girl, and jumped gleefully into the fray. Crona saw the shining child leaping at him, quickly conjured the black sword.

The noises in the square abruptly stopped, silenced by an otherworldly scream.

* * *

Impaled on the sword was a shining girl. Blood leaked out along the blade that pierced her chest.

Kuro played it back in her mind, repeating over and over what had just happened. Nijuku, laughing as the sword plowed through her. Sanju, giggling in unison. The purple-haired warrior, stabbing the blade automatically at the harmless child. Blood flowing down the sword and dripping heavily onto the scorching pavement. Nijuku, Sanju, sword, blood, Nijuku, Sanju, sword, blood-

"GAAAAAAAAAAH!" Kuro threw back her head, letting loose an unearthly wail of pure fury. Crona froze. Kuro whipped her head back at him, glaring with infinite rage.

She hissed. "You are about to die. Pray it's quick."

As she pronounced this, Kuro flung her head back and roughly tore Crona's collar open with one hand. Crona made no move, frozen in sheer panic. Kuro frantically pried Crona's fingers open, then grabbed the sword that had stabbed Nijuku and flung it aside, ignoring its fantastic weight.

Kuro was only peripherally aware of what she was doing. The rest of her mind was focused on a mantra: KILL HIM. HURT HIM AS HE HURT YOU. KILL. KILL.

She plunged her face into the boy's throat, ripping viciously with snapping teeth and roaring when she had to breathe. Black blood splattered against the wall across the street and poured heavily toward the rain gutters. Crona stirred, trying to focus, trying to harden his blood. Nothing happened.

It was only then he screamed. He screamed helplessly, voice trembling with terror. He tried to speak, stuttering badly. "Wh-wh-wh-what d-d-di-did you d-do?!" He screamed again.

The calculating half of Kuro's mind tried to form the question as a sentence, despite her body's desperate need to kill this murdering black-blood. Slowly, eyes clearing through a mist of oil-colored blood, she said, "I've had training to... master the ways of... killing witchblood. I have... witchblood of my own." After this brief statement, the girl's eyes misted over and she started slashing at his throat with her bare hands.

A voice hung in the air. It wasn't a loud voice, or a high voice, and it didn't have any qualities that would make it so noteworthy most of the time. Even so, it rang in Kuro's ear, saying, "Shady-_chan_, it hurts..."

Kuro snapped into life. She got to her feet, tripping over herself as she rushed to Nijuku's side.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry Nijuku, please don't die, don't die!" Kuro blurted. Nijuku smiled as she grabbed at the blade she hung from, slowly climbing up the edge. She stopped a few times to lick her fingers clean of her blood, then indomitably forging on. Finally, with an accommodating _pop_, Nijuku leaped off of Ragnarok, staring up to Kuro expectantly.

Kuro stared, struggling to say something. She settled for a laugh, and another. "You idiot!" she yelled. "Don't scare me like that!" Kuro playfully bopped Nijuku on the head.

"Ow!" Nijuku said. _Painful and happy, happy hurting,_ she thought blissfully. The twins looked around. "Why ink on the walls? What happened? Why ink on purple girl?" they asked.

"Later. We should go," Kuro said hurriedly.

Doctor Stein, who had been trying to follow the source of the screaming, saw none of this. He rounded the corner of his normal life and emerged into a nightmare.

Black blood and tiny chunks of ripped flesh dripped from the buildings, bleaching the rock black. A crowd of people stood in a pool of the inky fluid, staining the sidewalk one shoeprint at a time.

"Out of the way!" he shouted. The crowd parted at the word of Death Scythe. At the end of the corridor made by the motions, the traveler kneeled next to Crona, whispering something. He stood up, turned and walked away.

As the traveler left, Stein saw Crona's throat. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was almost like a wolf attacked him, but it made NO SENSE. Not only was Crona infinitely more deadly than a wolf, even if a wolf got the jump on him it would've broken its teeth! Yet here he was, neck ripped apart and lying in a pool of blood wider than the Death Room.

Stein gripped the traveler as he passed. "Whuh... What happened? What happened here?!"

The traveler flinched at his touch. He hesitated. "He...got in a fight. Someone made his blood flow. I don't know how, black blood doesn't flow if it doesn't want to. Make sure he gets a lot of liquids, and some raw meat if it doesn't heal in a few days."

For once in his life, Stein was flustered. "How do you know about this? Who are you?!"

Kuro looked up at him, a face full of innocence. One drop of black blood slid down her chin. "I'm just a traveler."


	11. Atmosphere!

**Part Eleven**

**Atmosphere!**

Dusk. Darkness fell on the gates of Death City. The shadows of the street changed somehow, flowing into each other and deepening from indigo to obsidian. Streetlamps became beacons of light, illuminating the streets with a slightly amber glow, rippling occasionally as heat escaped through the vents in the side. Stray cats departed for trash bins, searching for food.

Two of the cats were motionless, looking around curiously at the sights around them. Silver light twinkled off their white coats, refracting flecks of illumination that looked like glitter shining through honey.

One of the turned to the other. "Smell coat man?"

The other turned to the first one. "Smelled him. Smells like professor."

The first one nodded.

They pawed toward the street corner, ceaselessly gazing at their surroundings. Stone walls that would chill the blood of heroes made nice footholds in their minds. Dripping, inklike writing on the walls proclaimed "DTK IS SO GAY" and "MR. BICKLE EAT YOUR HEART OUT", clashing violently with the delicately written scraps of poetry they were written over. One such piece was so heavily covered that only the word "soul" could be read. Another seemed to be censored at random, blacked out by a blind man. At the top was a line that stated "-yed like a cheap deck. I loved you, b-" before it was cut off by a spray-painted thumbs-up.

The cats reached the corner. Another cat came shooting around the corner, hissing obscenities at something behind her. She turned and ran, thumping into the white kittens before they could react. The cat's hat looked up into the smiling faces of the kittens, and the feline gave a mighty "EEK!" and ran away.

The cats made no move to pursue her, but called out to her.

"Hello, kitty! We don't want to hurt you! Just want to play!"

Recognizing human speech, the cat stopped in midstep, one paw raised to her shoulder. The pointed hat on her head turned, a rudimentary face rolling atop the cat's forehead.

"Cats speak people talk? Interested now."

Snapping a claw, the hatted cat whirled upward into a beautiful, bubbly, thoroughly naked woman. "Hi! I'm Blair," she said cheerfully. Her hat bobbed down over her eyes as she spoke.

The albino kittens smiled at her and nodded. Shafts of light sprang from their fur, melting into a dome of white energy. The walls around them seemed to gape in surprise at this raging storm of radiance.

As the light died down, two girls emerged from the sphere of radiance, white-haired eight-year-olds wearing miniature nightgowns and sporting cat ears and cat tails. "Nijuku!" said one. "Sanju!" said the other.

The naked ex-feline was impressed. "How do mew keep on myour clothes on, nyah? I've tried doing that, but it never works."

The girls looked skeptical. "Clothes easy to change. Just hold them with hands, and think of fur. Easy!" They demonstrated.

Blair watched intently as the twins shifted, narrowing her eyes as she tried to catch the intricacies of their animalistic shift. "Not too easy," she muttered.

Sanju caught that. "Here! Try it!" she cried, shamelessly tossing her tiny nightgown to the buxom Blair. The cat-woman, caught off guard, almost didn't catch it. She swatted at the air, somehow grabbing the miniscule piece of cloth. She tilted her head at the twins, as if to say, _what do you want me to do with this_?

"Tie it over your tummy!" Nijuku joined in.

Blair wrapped the tiny cloth over her breasts, thinking with a trace of humor what some men might do to view this situation. _Or some women,_ she noted automatically, doing her best not to offend the readers. After a few seconds pondering this line of thought, Blair paused somewhere between _the difference in octopus and squid tentacles_ and _what does Maka think of me?_ to resume tying the cloth. It formed a loose knot, little nibs of cloth hanging out suggestively.

"O.K., what nyow?" she said to the children watching her.

In unison, they yelled, "Now try this!" and shrank into their feline forms, then immediately sprang back. While Sanju couldn't possibly have demonstrated, Nijuku morphed with her clothes. Her nightgown slowly became tighter, pressing against Nijuku's body, sprouting fine fur.

On the reversal, the fur shrank down to mere threads, expanding and loosening into a piece of cloth again. "See, easy!"

Blair tried with the tiny knot. She took it slow, breathing deeply as she morphed. _Easy, Blair,_ she thought. The cloth melted into her skin, shrinking and flowing with her. She went to all fours, hands hardening slightly, fingers contracting into soft paws. Her tail shot out from her spine, a sensation that never failed to surprise her.

Blair was once again a cat. There was no trace of a nightgown. "It worked! What do you call yourselves?"

At that precise moment, a concerned voice called out from a few streets down, "NIJUKU! SANJU! COME BACK HERE **NOW!**"

The twins pricked up their ears, then turned and ran down the street, shifting into cats as they went.

Blair watched them go, chaotic light reflecting from her feline eyes. "Twenty-nine and thirty...?" she said, confused.


	12. Love, Sorrow, Lies, Hate

**Part Twelve**

**Love, Sorrow, Lies, Hate**

**The girls came running, white-furred feet flying over the pavement.**

Kuro was on the verge of calling for the girls again when she saw them running as cats. The padded impeccably through the broken glass and ripped paper, stepping in spaces Kuro didn't even see. A few moments later, the ersatz cats were standing at attention, back in the form of little girls.

Sanju was naked.

"Sanju! What happened to your clothes?!" Kuro demanded.

The reply was very quick. "I gave them to a girl who didn't have clothes, Shady-_sama_!"

A smile flickered across Kuro's face for a moment. It was gone quickly. "Is she truthing, Nijuku?"

"_Hai_, Kuro-_sama_!" Nijuku shouted. Kuro allowed a smile.

"Well, turn back into kittens. I don't want anyone to think you two are eavesdroppers."

Sanju looked at Nijuku, who shook her head. "What's eave dropping?" they asked in unison.

"Never mind," Kuro said. "Just stay in one place, would you? And don't talk at anyone!"

The twins ran off, already shifting as they went. "_HOI_!" they shouted back. They took a perch near a fountain.

Kuro turned, searching the shadows for Spirit Albarn and Maka the Scythemaster. Just thinking the word scythemaster brought up such ugly hatred in Kuro's mind. Ugh.

**_Focus_**, Kuro thought. _They'll be coming any minute now. Any minute now, I'll finally meet him! Don't wanna look like an idiot now. It won't be long._

Out of the fog came a familiar shape, a tall man with cinnabar hair, wearing a sharp Seville Row morning suit, a cross-shaped tie mounted over white-

Kuro's mouth twitched. The coffin on the traveler's back flew off, cracking slightly as it crashed into the cobblestones. Kuro whispered towards the coffin.

Death Scythe came closer, flanked closely by Maka and Soul.

The darkness around Kuro pulsed as Kuro shouted, "You were supposed to bring Spirit, not Death Scythe! And I said nothing about Soul! I hope you know what you're getting into, Death Scythe."

Death Scythe came even closer, saying something softly. "What?!" Kuro yelled.

"I _AM_ SPIRIT ALBARN!" Death Scythe shouted.

Kuro advanced faster than Spirit could see, a look of shock staining the traveler's face. "What did you just say?" Confusion coursed through those five whispered words.

Spirit looked almost apologetic. "**I'm** Spirit. Death Scythe is only a title I have, but it's what everyone calls me. I know I'm not the most obvious-looking Spirit in the world, but..." he shrugged.

Kuro studied his face very intently, muttering softly and poking occasionally. "...the nose, the sea-blue eyes..." was all Spirit could hear. After about a minute of this, Kuro stood up. "Maybe he really is," Kuro murmured.

"Maybe I'm what?" he asked, finally getting annoyed. "What do you want with me, you... you?"

Kuro's mouth opened, then closed. It opened again, and Kuro said, "Do you remember a woman by the name of Makayuki Allbourne?"

Of all the things Death Scythe was expecting, that name wasn't one of them. "Mak-... where did you hear that name?" His voice dripped with emotion.

The traveler smiled then, a serene, graceful smile that was little more than a twist of the lips. "Ah. You remember her. She remembered you, Spirit. She still loves you, I know it. I wish you could hear the way she said your name, Spirit. If only... But that's not the point."

Soul interjected, "Who's Makayuki?"

Spirit whirled around, his eyes flaring furiously. "Don't you dare say that name! Don't you dare, Soul Evans!"

Soul flashed fury. "Don't call me that, you skirt-chasing moron of a weapon! I'm not an Evans!"

"Evans, Evans, Evans! Don't call me a stick, you... _child_!"

"Go choke on a Kishin egg, you uncool waste of iron! Go ahead, hit me! Hit me, you won't even scratch-"

**"ENOOOUGH!"** Maka shrieked.

Silence, except for a _plop_ and a yowl as Sanju fell into the water. Slowly, Maka composed herself. A deep breath rolled in her lungs, a deep breath hissed out. "Now, father, who is Makayuki Allbourne?"

Kuro rushed up to Maka, studying her face. "Did you say father?"

Maka retreated three steps from the hiss Kuro's voice had become. "Yes! Father! I told you when I met you! Spirit is my father! What's wrong with you?!"

Kuro thought for a moment and took a deep breath. "Never mind. For the two of you who don't know who Makayuki is, Spirit here can fill you all in. Well, Spirit?"

Spirit looked downwards. "Maka. You know a bit already. Your mother was the one who made me a Death Scythe, and you met Stein, my previous meister." Everyone shuddered but Kuro, who was staring at Maka. Kuro's jaw was hanging open, eyes gaping in surprise.

"Maka?" Kuro said.

"Yes?"

Kuro said nothing else, but smiled deeply. _I knew it_, Kuro was thinking. _I knew it_. "Thank you."

"Well," Spirit continued, "after I left Stein, I was paired with two beautiful girls. One of them was your mother, and the other was a red-haired vision of a woman called Makayuki Allbourne. Now, Kami was a wonderful meister, but she never... opened up to me. Yuki, though... She was charming, kind, sympathetic. She was a beautiful girl, and she thought I was cool. Can you believe it? _Me_, cool!  
We went out on so many missions I thought we were invincible, and... I think I was beginning to love her. One day, we were to stop a ery dangerous Kishin egg, and I was paired up with Yuki. Along the way, we got ambushed. The bastard knew we were coming, I don't know how. He... he cut off Yuki's legs and dropped her in a pit. She wasn't moving. She looked like she wasn't breathing, and she was bleeding so badly..." Spirit trailed off, his eyes filling over with tears. He looked lost in memory. "When I got back to Lord Death, I..."

A voice cut through his thoughts. "She wasn't dead."

Spirit twisted his head around, slowly glaring over at the black-cloaked traveler. In a quiet breath of pure anger, Spirit said, "What?"

"She wasn't dead. You made the right choice, though. If you'd have moved her, Makayuki would have died." Kuro's tone of voice sounded almost singsong, a fact that made the traveler's deathly still countenance seem emotionless.

"How do you know that?! You weren't there! How dare you talk about-"

"I know because she told me herself. And Maka Allbourne wasn't a liar."

"Was?" Soul sounded confused.

"Makayuki Allbourne, Senior died ten years ago. Her funeral was well-attended by her friends, who were all heartbroken to see her go. I was there." Kuro's voice thickened. "I was the one in charge of... burying her."

Maka was listening very carefully to one thing Kuro said. It clicked, sparking in her brain. "Maka Allbourne, _Senior_? She had a baby?"

Kuro cracked the most mournful smile the world had ever seen. "Yes. A daughter. She was the child of Makayuki and Spirit Albarn. A beautiful girl, from what I've heard. But what interests me is YOUR name, Maka." Kuro smiled, then added, "Or should I call you Makashiro?"

Maka gasped. "How... Why do you know my name?" She tried to sound mad, but it came off as frightened.

"I KNEW IT!" Kuro laughed. "You have no idea how much this means! That was the name she was going to give her child!" Kuro crossed the square and lightly grasped Maka's hands. The traveler started wildly dancing, flaring out the night-colored coat with a splendorous twirl. Kuro laughed wholeheartedly and happily, echoing relief endlessly around the square.

Even though she was frightened, Maka started to raise her feet in time with the traveler. She stepped down as the traveler stepped down, flowing into a quick waltz of clattering feet and loud laughter. She even laughed a bit.

Spirit cut in. "Where is she now?"

The traveler stopped midstep, breath flying out in gusts of wind. "What?"

"Where is the daughter? You know her, I think."

Kuro chuckled, still panting a bit. "Yeah. You're talking to her." She grabbed her hat off, taking a deep bow. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Dad. I'm Makayuki Allbourne, Junior. Your daughter."


	13. Red

**Part Thirteen**

**Red**

They stared at the wanderer. "Daughter? Of _Death Scythe_?" Soul asked.

Maka was stunned. "I... I have a sister?" she asked. She felt so confused. So many ways this could end... One fact rung in her brain, endlessly ricocheting back and forth: He cheated on my mother, he cheated on her, he cheated on her, he cheated, he-

Something shattered. Maka's teeth bared.

"HOW DARE YOU CHEAT ON MY MOTHER!" she screamed. Spirit whirled around. His face was nothing but stark surprise. Hers was absolute rage. Her teeth clenched, grinding up and down her jaw.

"Maka, listen to me. I never would have cheated-"

"LIAR!"

Spit bubbled on her lips, rapidly mounting into foam. She hunched her body over, lurching toward the Death Scythe, swaying like a puppet. Her hands were clenching and unclenching so quickly her knuckles cracked. After a moment, a patch of thick red started pooling on the surface of Maka's gloves near the knuckles.

"You cheated on my mother every day of my life," Maka muttered.

She snapped her head up to meet her father's eye. Spirit started to sob. Maka's eyes were leaking tears. She didn't even feel them. Her mind was gone for now. Unseen, a drop of blood fell from Maka's hand, splattering thickly as it touched the floor.

Suddenly, she shrieked, "I HATE YOU!"

She threw her fist back and slammed it into Death Scythe's mouth. Death Scythe, surprised, crumpled to the floor. Maka pummeled him with her bloody hands, smashing her fists in his face again and again. She jumped, lifting herself up and slamming her boots into his chest. She kept screaming at him, her voice a wordless screech. Blood spurted from Spirit's mouth and flew into the air, only to splat thickly onto his wrecked Seville suit.

She lifted her fist one last time. Out of nowhere, a hand clenched around her arm. She whirled, swinging her other arm in a furious arc. Kuro grabbed the arm swinging hurtling toward her, released the other arm, and gripped Maka's head. Kuro pressed her forehead into Maka's, and said something very, very soft.

Abruptly, Maka stopped moving. She slowly crumpled to the ground, sobbing heavily. Kuro said nothing, but gave her back a soft smile.

Spirit looked up through two black eyes at his daughters. Maka was crying her eyes out a few meters away, and Ku- no, _Makayuki_ was staring at her. He asked something like, "What happened?" but he couldn't think about it. His head hurt so bad.

Makayuki was saying something.

"What?"

"I told her to remember that we're sisters. You're my father, and hers as well." Kuro turned her head, looking at her half-sister, weeping silently in the corner. "I think she understands."  
She got up. "You know, Spirit, I wondered what you were like for the longest time, and I think I finally have you figured out." A pause. "I'm glad I got to meet you. You got two shots at love, and you took them both. You know," she added, and turned to him, "my mother loved you to her dying breath. Think about that for a while."

She turned back to Maka."And as for you, Maka, you have the most wonderful father you ever will have. Make the most of it." Kuro turned to the door and started walking. She stopped. "I just remembered. You never saw my soul, did you? It's only fair."

Maka looked through tear-smeared eyes at her sister's face. She opened her eyes.

Then opened her eyes again.

Makayuki was a silhouette. Light had abandoned her soul, except for her eyes. Her eyes were prismatic beacons of color and light, shining out a rainbow of energy on the obsidian shadow.

Maka closed her eyes.

Kuro smiled her brightest smile, a slight grin that flashed inner peace. "Now you see what I am. Love doesn't work with me." Makayuki's gaze wandered over to Nijuku and Sanju for a moment, and she sighed. "But I'm trying, sister. I'm trying." The smile vanished, replaced by a sorrowful twist of her mouth. "What's keeping _you_ from trying?"

The wanderer called the swarm of Sen and the twins. She walked out of the Academy, turned down a side street cloaked in shadow. The bats poured into her casket, swelling the sides until they threatened to break. Sanju came quickly, saying nothing. Nijuku followed, lips sealed. After a few minutes, Sanju broke the hanging silence.

"Why Shady-_sama_ so sad?"

Makayuki said nothing for several minutes. She had a lot to tell these two. She began.

"Sanju?"

"_Hai_?"

"Have I ever told you two about Mo or Makayuki?"

"_Nashi_."

Kuro smiled. "Then I have a lot to tell you two."

So it began again. The song was an old one, and the twins had heard it once before. That time, Kuro had been forced into it, and it felt eerie.

Once again, Kuro sang her song, echoing brightly through the streets of Death City. It sounded nothing like the way it sounded before, but it still sounded right, somehow. After all, it was _her_ song.

The girls in white listened in awe as the black-cloaked traveler's voice lifted the shadows. The world felt right, for a while at least.


	14. Epilogue: Home

Kuro's song ended at last. Tears welled in her eyes, but they looked like ink in the shadowed night.  
She turned back, facing the city of her father and half-sister. For the longest time, she stood there and marked towers and traced streets. Her eyes kept filling up and blurring over with dark tears, and she wiped them away.  
Kuro smiled through the tears. She turned to the twins, silently asking a single question.  
The twins came closer to her. They flanked to her sides and gently held her hands. Their own hands were barely able to fit around one of Kuro's fingers, but they held on.  
Kuro jumped when she felt their fingers' touch, yet she squeezed them. With the twins at her side, Kuro turned and walked back to Death City.

* * *

Maka sobbed, "I'm horrible, I'm a monster..." before she screamed into her hands again.

Nearby, Spirit lay on his back, breathing erratically. When he tried to sit up, he grimaced and flopped to the floor. "Ah... you're your mother's daughter, all right," he groaned to Maka. "Kami would be proud."

Maka didn't hear him. She didn't hear anything through her own moaning. Something touched her shoulder, and she didn't look up to see what it was.

A hand came into view. It held a small white cloth, stained black in places. Maka stared at it.

The hand shook. "Take it," a voice said.

Maka reached out for the cloth. She grabbed it, wiped her face with it.

Kuro smiled gently. She bent down to Maka, gripped her hand. "Come on, Shiro. Let's go fix Dad up."

Maka smiled back through the tears. "Okay," she whispered.

Kuro looked up at the night sky. "Finally," she said.

**The girls in white danced around black Kuro and golden Shiro. Makayuki Allbourne looked up to the moon, her eyes soft in the starlight. "I'm here," she whispered.  
**

**_The End_**


End file.
